


Having

by skatzaa



Series: Gabriel [2]
Category: The Scorpio Races - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Canon Compliant, Gen, Maggie Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: “Your brother told me not to let you sign up. He wanted me to find a rule against it.”

She means Gabe, of course.—The Scorpio Races, p65
When, exactly, did Gabe find the time to talk to Peg? A sequel, of sorts, to Looking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic started on the bus ride. It fought me and I'm not quite as happy with it, but I'm posting it nonetheless.

GABE

I am the last of the three of us to leave the pub that night, the single pint I drank churning in my stomach. Beech goes first, saying he has the earliest shift at the shop tomorrow. Tommy follows soon after. Before he leaves, he places a hand on my shoulder and I try not to lean into it. It's impossible to say whether or not I fail. 

After they go, I nurse my beer, now gone warm, until closing time, considering my options. I can demand that Puck not race, but then I’ll have to come up with a satisfactory reason why, and I don’t have one that she won’t punch a hole through in a moment. 

I can beg her not to, but that will only make Puck dig her heels in and refuse to be swayed. Dad always said she was the most stubborn of us. As a boy, I thought my tiny, unbending sister was funny. Now, I understand his exasperation. 

I consider one final idea as I wander Skarmouth’s streets, and it makes the roiling in my stomach even worse, because I promised myself I wouldn’t. 

Despite my promises, I find myself on the road to Hastoway, hands shoved in my pockets. 

It’s closer to dawn than dusk by the time I reach the Gratton’s house. The old gelding nickers in greeting, and that’s enough to wake Peg, who is the lightest sleeper I’ve ever met. It’s less than a minute before she slips through the front door. 

She’s wrapped in a dark red robe that looks like it belongs to Thomas, and she walks quickly to where I wait by the gate, but she doesn’t open it. Three wooden boards and a rusted latch are all that separate us, but it may as well be the entire Atlantic, with how far away she seems. In the moonlight, I can see that her hair is even more wild than Puck’s. 

We stare at each other from across the gate. 

I wish I hadn’t come. 

“What is it, Gabriel?” Her voice is scratchy with sleep. She sounds like the sea, and it's both soothing and discomfiting. Peg is the only one who calls me Gabriel anymore, besides Father Mooneyham. Mum used to, when she was especially cross, but Peg is the only one left. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, and it’s hard to remember that I’m talking about waking her just now, and not these past months. I can’t tell what she thinks I might mean. “Puck is riding in the races and I don’t know how to stop her.” 

Peg sighs sharply. “She’s an adult, Gabriel, and you’re leaving.” 

Her tone is both resigned and pointed, and neither sit well with me. This is my fault, though, not hers. All of the problems between us are my fault, really, as is the distance, and still I run to her. 

Running to Peg is what started this, nearly a year ago, because I’ve never been strong enough to bear Thisby’s weight on my own, and I foolishly hoped she might be able to shoulder some of it for me. 

“There’s never been a woman in the races before, you _know_ that.” I’m pleading, but I can’t find it in myself to care. Peg has already seen the worst of me and stood her ground. “Please, Peg.” 

Peg’s hand rises from her side and hovers just inside the invisible barrier above the gate. I wish I could see her face, but the moon is not that kind. 

For a moment, her hand remains where it is, and the possibilities are endless, and she’s once more close enough to touch. 

Then Peg sighs a second time. It’s a soft, sad noise. Her hand drops back to her side, and the insurmountable distance between us returns. 

“I’ll try, Gabriel,” she says. Then she turns and goes back to her bed and her husband. Here on the other side of the gate, I’m left to make my way back to a house full of ghosts and responsibilities.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many questions about Gabe/Peg and this answered approximately zero of them. If anyone out there has any more insight than I do, feel free to share it here or on my [tumblr](skatzaa.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Read On,  
> Skats


End file.
